


Boy Wondering

by Salmon_Pink



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-28 16:45:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/309926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salmon_Pink/pseuds/Salmon_Pink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's maybe not the best time to get lost in his own thoughts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boy Wondering

**Author's Note:**

> Set after Final Crisis but before Teen Titans V3 #92. Written for [60 Minute Fics](http://60-minute-fics.livejournal.com/), prompt "nicknames".

Kon’s tongue dips into his bellybutton again and Tim grunts and squirms against the hold Kon has on his hips. His hands grab at Kon’s hair, thread through the slightly longer strands at the front.

It’s not as long as Kon used to wear it when he and Tim first met, but Tim can still get a pretty decent grip compared to when Kon had that Caesar cut when they first joined the Titans.

Kon chuckles lightly against Tim’s navel when Tim gives his hair a solid yank, the vibration of it making Tim’s stomach muscles twitch under Kon’s lips. Tim gives another forceful tug, trying to pull Kon’s head up with the grip on his hair, and he’d probably be causing pain if he were doing this to anyone else, but Kon just grins up at him, lips still barely an inch from Tim’s stomach.

“Quit teasing already,” Tim hisses. He’s exhausted from patrol, on edge from a night of somehow having to deal with both Damian _and_ Jason, and all he wants is melt under a wave of mind-blowing orgasms and possibly some cuddling. He’s really not in the mood for Kon spending a solid seven minutes making love to his damn bellybutton, especially because he _knows_ Kon’s only doing it to wind him up.

Kon apparently has a thing about getting Tim pissy enough to start barking orders during sex, and his eyes are _sparkling_ for it now, bright and amused and hungry. One day Tim’s going to make Kon sit down and discuss that particular fetish, but right now all he wants is for Kon to just get _on_ with it already.

“Whatever you say, _Wonder Boy_ ,” Kon leers, and Tim rolls his eyes and lets his head fall back against the mattress.

“You do _know_ I’m not actually Robin anymore,” Tim snorts, trying to press his hips up again, but Kon’s hand are holding them firmly against the sheets. “You’re going to have to stop calling me that.”

Kon makes a noncommittal noise, somewhere between a hum and a snort, and then finally, _finally_ his head is lowering, mouth opening over the head of Tim’s cock, and Tim lets out a shaky groan. Eyes falling shut, hands much more gentle now as they move through Kon’s hair, petting and stroking.

Kon sucks at the head, not quite as hard as he knows Tim likes it, one hand wrapping around the base. But Tim _still_ can’t push his hips up, because the bastard’s using his TTK to hold him down, and Tim’s already too tired and too needy to form words, so all he can do is make soft whining noises for more. Kon teased him for too long, and Tim’s on the last dregs of adrenaline, and this isn’t going to last long, he knows it.

And maybe Kon realises that, or the whining gets the message across, because his head is moving, lips opening around Tim’s cock as he takes more in. Yielding heat, and Tim moans and throws an arm over his face to block out everything but how good it feels.

There’s a part of him that knows it isn’t fair that all he wants to do on nights like this is get off and then collapse into bed. Kon visits Gotham now more than he did before his death, when Bruce’s strict ‘no metas’ rule kept him away. But they still don’t see each other as much as Tim wants, and he wishes he could make this better, wishes he could _be_ better. He wants a whole day of this, curled up together in bed, not just stolen moments after patrol.

It kind of makes him feel like an ass that there’s still a part of him that wants to rejoin the Titans, _just_ to have a whole weekend in Kon’s company. Sure, he misses spending time with Cassie and Bart as much as he does with Kon, of course he does. But he wants a whole weekend of Kon’s hands on him, of those breathy noises Kon makes in his ear that make it sound like he’s so turned-on it _hurts_.

Still, there’s another part of him that can only think ‘ _yes_ ’ and ‘ _more_ ’ and about greed and selfishness and the wet sounds Kon makes as his head bobs up and down between Tim’s legs.

And then Kon’s lips tighten over him, tongue flicking against Tim’s cock, and Tim’s ripped out of this thoughts, hears himself make a sound embarrassingly close to a _bark_.

He thinks for a brief second that maybe he imagined it, but he’s already propping himself up on his elbow, gazing down the length of his body, and Kon’s eyes are trained on his face as he pulls back, lips shiny and wet. “Quit daydreaming and pay attention,” he murmurs, voice deep and husky, and Tim knows he’s staring as Kon lowers his head again, but he can’t stop.

Because he _didn’t_ imagine it, knows he didn’t in the moment before Kon winks at him and does it again.

Lips tightening and releasing around his cock, ripple of sensation.

“ _Won_.”

Tongue rolling up against the underside of Tim’s cock, flicking along it.

“ _Der_.”

Lips curling back over Kon’s teeth before they drag down the length of the shaft.

“ _Boy_.”

Flutter of sensation, stab of something warm and familiar and loving deep in Tim’s chest, and Kon’s still gazing up at him, eyes mischievous yet caring.

Tim gasps and throws his head back, orgasm taking him entirely by surprise, and he shudders and pants and spills into Kon’s mouth.

Tim falls back bonelessly against the bed, and after a moment Kon half-crawls, half-floats up to sprawl beside him, hand splayed over Tim’s chest directly above his heart.

He gives Tim a few moments to catch his breath, before he leans closer, nuzzling Tim’s cheek, and asks, “So, what have we learned today?”

Tim won’t give him the satisfaction of a laugh, but he’s too tired and sated to fight away his smirk. “That you can call me Wonder Boy whenever you want.”

“Damn straight!” Kon gloats, his smile huge and warm, and Tim thinks that, yeah, he wishes they could have more than these stolen moments together, but what they have is already pretty damn perfect.


End file.
